


A Salty Surprise

by glitterybisexual



Series: Steter Against Humanity [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Coffee, Fluff, M/M, Peter hale - Freeform, Pranking, Rare Pair, Steter - Freeform, Teen Wolf, prank, stiles stilinski - Freeform, tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 02:56:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6138933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitterybisexual/pseuds/glitterybisexual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles may or may not have emptied the sugar container and filled it with salt. Maybe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Salty Surprise

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a tiny little drabble to get me back into writing. Any comments or feedback is appreciated. c:  
> Update: I have decided to make this into a series! I got the idea for the title of this from a Cards Against Humanity card, and so I am starting a series featuring short drabbles based on these cards. Idk if this has done before, but yeah I hope some people like it. Thanks!

Stiles is laughing. No, Stiles is crying. Yep, there’s a tear. Rolling down his face. Into his mouth. Mm. Tasty. Good God, it’s going to be so worth it when he sees the look on Peter’s face. Muffling more laughter, he finishes pouring the salt into their normal sugar container. He’s completely switched the two - their salt shaker is filled with sugar and their sugar container is now filled with salt. Stiles woke up three hours earlier than his normal around 11am wake up time just to do this, which is an actual crime and needs to be appreciated, okay. He is nothing if not dedicated. 

His ears prick up as he hears Peter shuffling out of bed and he screws the sugar container the rest of the way on, and dives for the couch, flipping on an old rerun of the Daily Show. Stiles smiles into his own deliciously black coffee as Peter shuffles out of their room, grumpy, his hair sticking up, and clad in only low slung pajama pants. 

“Morning!” Stiles chirps form the couch. Peter looks up at him groggily and grunts back - he raises an eyebrow though at Stiles unusually chipper tone, especially at this god awful hour of 9am. Peter walks around the island and heads to the coffee machine, pouring himself his usual large glass. Stiles can barely contain himself as Peter heads for the sugar container - he’s practically vibrating off the couch as he leans off the armrest watching Peter intently. Peter glances at him and he whips his head back to the TV where Jon Stewart is roasting some Republican senator. As Peter goes back to his coffee, Stiles peers again at him; Peter dumps spoonful after spoonful of sugar into his coffee, unaware of the sugar deception. Stiles hides his smile again in his coffee and stares intently as Peter takes the first sip of his coffee. 

Peter puts his lips to the mug and sips some of the coffee into his mouth. Stiles is again hanging off the armrest at this point. Peter swallows the coffee, and slowly, so slowly, he looks up and locks eyes with Stiles. Maintaining eye contact, sheer determination shining on his face, Peter tips his head back, gulping the salty coffee down. He drains the 16oz. mug completely while leveling Stiles with a death glare the entire time. Stiles is frozen, his own coffee cup half way to his mouth, brown eyes wide, and body more than half way off the couch. As Peter makes his way towards the couch, rounding the island once again, Stiles stares up at him from his position on the armrest. Peter comes to a stop in front of him, bends until he is eye level with him, and then proceeds to stick his tongue directly into Stiles mouth. 

Stiles screeches as the disgusting combination of salt and coffee invades his mouth by the onslaught of Peter’s tongue. “Peter! Gross!” Stiles is leaned over the couch yacking, spitting, desperately trying to get the taste out of his mouth, and Peter is just _sitting_ there _laughing_ at him as he suffers. 

“You little shit,” Peter laughs and sprawls onto the couch, as Stiles yanks himself back onto the couch, only just surviving the attack of salt on his taste buds. Peter steals Stiles coffee cup out of his hands, and sips the black coffee smugly. Stiles rolls his eyes, and now fully recovered, snuggles into Peter’s side on the couch as they settle into a day of watching Jon Stewart reruns. 


End file.
